‘Do you want me to divorce you?’
Clare shrugged. ‘You have no reason.’
‘So you would naturally say.’
‘And mean.’
‘Now look here, Clare, this is all absurd, and quite unworthy of anyone with your sense and knowledge of things. You can’t be a perpetual grass widow. You didn’t dislike the life out there.’
‘There are some things that can’t be done to me, and you have done them.’
‘I’ve said that they shan’t be done again.’
‘And I’ve said that I can’t trust you.’
‘This is going round the mulberry bush. Are you going to live on your people?’
‘No. I’ve got a job.’
‘Oh! What?’
‘Secretary to our new Member.’
‘You’ll be sick of that in no time.’
‘I don’t think so.’
He stood staring at her without his smile. For a moment she could read his thoughts, for his face had the expression which preludes sex. Suddenly he said: ‘I won’t stand for another man having you.’
It was a comfort to have seen for once the bottom of his mind. She did not answer.
‘Did you hear me?’
‘Yes.’
‘I meant it.’
‘I could see that.’
‘You’re a stony little devil.’
‘I wish I had been.’
He took a turn up and down the room, and came to a stand dead in front of her.
‘Look at me! I’m not going back without you. I’m staying at the Bristol. Be sensible, there’s a darling, and come to me there. We’ll start again. I’ll be ever so nice to you.’
Her control gave way and she cried out: ‘Oh, for God’s sake, understand! You killed all the feeling I had for you.’
His eyes dilated and then narrowed, his lips became a line. He looked like a horse-breaker.
‘And understand me,’ he said, very low, ‘you either come back to me or I divorce you. I won’t leave you here, to kick your heels.’
‘I’m sure you’ll have the approval of every judicious husband.’
The smile reappeared on his lips.
‘For that,’ he said, ‘I’m going to have a kiss.’ And before she could stop him he had fastened his lips on hers. She tore herself away and pressed the bell. He went quickly to the door.
‘Au revoir!’ he said, and went out.
Clare wiped her lips. She felt bewildered and exhausted, and quite ignorant whether to him or to her the day had gone.
She stood leaning her forehead on her hands over the fire, and became aware that Sir Lawrence had come back and was considerately saying nothing.
‘Awfully sorry, Uncle; I shall be in my digs next week.’
‘Have a cigarette, my dear.’
Clare took the cigarette, and inhaled its comfort. Her uncle had seated himself and she was conscious of the quizzical expression of his eyebrows.
‘Conference had its usual success?’
Clare nodded.
‘The elusive formula. The fact is, human beings are never satisfied with what they don’t want, however cleverly it’s put. Is it to be continued in our next?’
‘Not so far as I’m concerned.’
‘Pity there are always two parties to a conference.’
‘Uncle Lawrence,’ she said suddenly, ‘what is the law of divorce now?’
The baronet uncrossed his long thin legs.
‘I’ve never had any particular truck with it. I believe it’s less old-fashioned than it was, but see Whitaker.’ He reached for the red-backed volume. ‘Page 258 – here you are, my dear.’
Clare read in silence, while he gazed at her ruefully. She looked up and said.
‘Then, if I want him to divorce me, I’ve got to commit adultery.’
‘That is, I believe, the elegant way they put it. In the best circles, however, the man does the dirty work.’
‘Yes, but he won’t. He wants me back. Besides, he’s got his position to consider.’
‘There is that, of course,’ said Sir Lawrence, thoughtfully; ‘a career in this country is a tender plant.’
Clare closed the Whitaker.
‘If it weren’t for my people,’ she said, ‘I’d give him cause tomorrow and have done with it.’
‘You don’t think a better way would be to give partnership another trial?’
Clare shook her head.
‘I simply couldn’t.’
‘That’s that, then,’ said Sir Lawrence, ‘and it’s an awkward “that”. What does Dinny say?’
‘I haven’t discussed it with her. She doesn’t know he’s here.’
‘At present, then, you’ve no one to advise you?’